


An Accident of the Stars

by picascribit



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/F, Female Friendship, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, POV Trans Character, Post-Canon, Post-Hogwarts, Post-War, Romance, Trans Female Character, Women Being Awesome, business partners (with benefits), oblivious lesbians, trans!Lavender Brown
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-28
Updated: 2020-07-04
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:27:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24960796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/picascribit/pseuds/picascribit
Summary: Scarred by the war, Lavender can no longer see a future for herself. Parvati is there to help her find her way.
Relationships: Lavender Brown/Parvati Patil
Comments: 28
Kudos: 47





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I have chosen to make Lavender Black in this story, because there is no canonical description of the character, and the first two actresses cast as Lavender in the movies were Black.

Lavender Brown had expected to feel a lot of things when the war was done. The euphoria of victory. Relief that it was over. Fierce pride in herself and her friends for the part they had played in defeating Voldemort and his Death Eaters. Excitement for the future.

Now the war was over, and so was everything else. Lavender lay in her bed, staring up at the ceiling and trying very hard to feel nothing at all.

Everything hurt. Though it had been days since the battle, her wounds burned with every movement, as if her flesh were freshly torn. The healers at St Mungo's had tried to save her eye, but there had been too much damage. The right side of her face and scalp were a mess of ugly pink scars, with more on her chest where Fenrir Greyback's long fingernails had gouged her.

"We've done all we can," a healer had told her father grimly when he came to fetch her home. "Werewolf wounds are cursed. They'll be a long time healing, if they ever do."

Her father had tried, at first. On her first day home, he had brought her pet rabbit, Hazelnut, to her room, thinking the animal's presence might comfort her in a way that he could not. He had barely set foot inside the room when Hazelnut began to scream and claw at his arms, eyes rolling in terror. It was all her father could do to hold onto the rabbit until he could return him to his hutch.

_He can tell,_ Lavender thought miserably. Her blood was tainted with lycanthropy. She would never be able to hold her pet again.

After that, she had seen little of her father. He brought her food now and then, though Lavender was not hungry. He rarely spoke to her, but Lavender was used to that. She often pretended to be asleep when he came, to save them both the trouble of trying to find words to fill the space between them. Her father was a quiet man, who had had little to say to anyone since the death of his wife, least of all to the daughter he did not understand.

Alone in her room, curtains drawn against the May sunlight, Lavender wept, tears soaking the gauze bandages that swathed her ruined face, and longed for her mother.

Lavender's mother was the first person who had ever told her she was beautiful. Lavender had been very young at the time, but she still remembered it clearly.

"Look, Mama," she had said, slipping a necklace from her mother's jewelry box over her head, to sparkle against her brown skin, "I'm beautiful like you!"

Her mother had laughed, her warm, dark eyes so like Lavender's own, and stroked her cheek fondly. "Yes, you are. My beautiful boy."

Lavender had stood on tiptoes to whisper her secret into her mother's ear. "I'm a _girl_ , Mama."

Her mother blinked in surprise. "Are you, Love?"

Lavender nodded emphatically.

Later that night, tucked into her bed, Lavender had heard her parents arguing. She could not hear the words, but she was afraid. Her father was a quiet man who almost never raised his voice, but now his voice was loud.

The next day, after her father had gone to work, Lavender's mother pulled her onto her lap and told her that before Lavender was born, they had read all the signs, and every one of them had pointed to a daughter. When Lavender was born, her mother had not understood, but she did now.

"The signs can be hard to interpret sometimes. They'll seem to say one thing, while meaning another. But that is a limitation of our understanding, not of their Truth. Divination is the most mysterious of the magical arts, and the least understood. The signs are never wrong, though. Always trust in them, my child."

Lavender had promised, wide-eyed, that she would.

"We gave you the wrong name when you were born," her mother continued. "I'm sorry for that. Your name was supposed to be Lavender." Her mother stroked her springy black hair fondly. "You will be beautiful, Lavender, my daughter, and you will be loved."

Lavender took her mother's words to heart, striving to make herself beautiful and feminine in every possible way, and dreaming of the love that would one day be hers. After her mother's death, Lavender had been afraid her father would not let her be a girl anymore, but he had never said anything about it, one way or the other. It was just one more thing they did not talk about.

A quiet sob of despair escaped Lavender's throat. She was scarred now, and ugly, and her blood was tainted. Greyback had ripped her future away from her, and might even have made her a monster like him. And even if he had not, she would never be beautiful again. And if she was not beautiful, how could she ever be loved?


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Parvati visits to offer Lavender some encouragement.

Soft footsteps sounded in the hallway outside Lavender's room. The door hinges creaked. Lavender pretended to be asleep.

"Lavender?" said a soft voice.

Her throat tightened in fear. _No. Please don't._

The footsteps entered the room and came around to the other side of the bed.

"I know you're not asleep," said Parvati in a tone of mild annoyance.

Lavender groaned and pulled the covers over her head. "Don't look at me!"

The mattress shifted as Parvati sat down on the edge of the bed. "Why shouldn't I look at you?"

 _Because I'm hideous,_ Lavender thought miserably, _and you're so beautiful. Because if you look at me, I'll see on your face how disgusting I am, and then it will be real, and not just a bad dream._

"Because ... you shouldn't have to see it."

"So, what?" said Parvati irritably. "You're never going to leave this room or see anyone else ever again?"

"Maybe," Lavender mumbled into her blankets.

"Don't be ridiculous," Parvati snapped. "You want to be sad and alone all the time like your dad? Shall I go get you a bottle of firewhisky to be your new best friend?"

Lavender blinked back tears. "Did you just come to yell at me?"

"No. I came because I've been worried sick. I haven't seen or heard from my best friend in almost a week, and the last time I saw her, she was covered in blood and not moving. Do you know how hard I tried to see you at St Mungo's? They wouldn't let me in. 'Family only,' they said. I could barely get them to tell me you were alive! And then no one told me you were home. I only came by today to see if your father was sober enough to tell me anything. You haven't answered any of my owls. I shouldn't have to resort to Divination to find out if you're all right."

"I'm sorry," mumbled Lavender. "You don't have to worry about me. I'll be all right."

"Will you?" said Parvati tartly. "I thought you were a Gryffindor. Come out and tell me to my face."

Reluctantly, Lavender pulled the covers down and sat up, keeping her face turned away from her friend. "I'll be all right," she repeated quietly.

Gentle fingers touched her chin, turning her head. Lavender stared at her knees as Parvati took in the gauze bandages that swathed half her face.

"How bad is it?" Parvati asked softly. "Does it hurt a lot?"

"Yes," admitted Lavender. "My eye - they couldn't - there was nothing they could do, because ... because of who hurt me."

Parvati's thumb stroked her cheek, and Lavender closed her eye, swallowing a lump in her throat.

"You're not going to get better, lying alone in a dark room all day, not eating." She glanced at the untouched breakfast tray left by Lavender's father hours before. Cold eggs, cold toast, cold tea.

"I'm not going to get better at all. I lost an _eye_. And the - the scars ... Hazelnut freaks out if he's even in the same room with me, because I might be a ... a ..."

Lavender lost the struggle. Tears spilled over, stinging her raw flesh and soaking into her bandages. Parvati's arms wrapped tight around her, holding her as sobs shook Lavender's body. She clung to her friend, face pressed to the refuge of her neck.

"My poor darling," murmured Parvati, stroking her back. "It's all right. You're not alone anymore. I'm here."

"There's nothing - you can - do," gasped Lavender, between sobs.

"Of course there is. For a start, I can get you to eat something. You will, won't you? For me?"

"OK," agreed Lavender, though she did not feel hungry.

She pulled away, sniffling, and wiped her good eye on the sheets, as Parvati picked up the breakfast tray.

"Let's see if we can freshen this up a bit," she said, taking out her wand. She pointed it at the eggs. " _Renovare_."

The eggs jiggled, unscrambled themselves, and rolled into two oblong shapes. Brown shells formed around their outsides.

"Hmm," said Parvati. "That works for some things. I guess not for eggs, though." She settled for a simple warming charm for the toast and tea.

As Lavender nibbled on a corner of toast, Parvati stood and went to the window, pulling back the curtains.

"No, don't -" The bright May sunlight stabbed at Lavender's eye, and she recoiled from it.

"You can't sit around in the dark all day," said Parvati. "You'll turn into a mushroom."

 _There are worse things to turn into,_ Lavender thought darkly.

Parvati sat down on the bed once more, looking so beautiful in the light that it almost broke Lavender's heart. Her dark hair was pulled back in a long, thick plait, decorated with sparkly butterfly clips, and she wore lightweight turquoise silk summer robes. She picked up the steaming teacup and handed it to Lavender.

"Drink," she said. "Have you read your leaves since -?"

"No," said Lavender, taking a sip to please her friend. "Professor Trelawney always says you're not supposed to read for yourself. It's too hard to be objective."

"I brought my cards," offered Parvati. "I could read for you, if you want."

Lavender shook her head. "I don't want to know."

"Not even if it's something good?"

"It won't be."

The good part of her life was over. The part where Lavender was pretty. The part where she was at Hogwarts with Parvati, and they went everywhere and did everything together.

"You're not done," said Parvati softly, taking Lavender's hand between hers. "You still have a future. We can figure it out together."

Lavender nodded, but did not meet her friend's eyes. Parvati had a future. She would meet someone and fall in love and get married and have children. Lavender would be left behind. She did not think that Parvati would abandon her entirely, but inevitably there would be less and less room in her life for Lavender.

"What's this?" asked Parvati, picking something up from the breakfast tray. "One of your father's amulets?"

"Yeah. He ... left it for me."

Amulets were her father's livelihood. He worked in gold, silver, copper, and bronze. The amulets were inlaid with semi-precious stones and inscribed with runes. Luck, protection, wealth, fertility, love; if it was something people yearned for, her father made an amulet for it. When Lavender left for her first year at Hogwarts, he had given her a gold amulet, inlaid with moonstones, and inscribed with runes of friendship and love. Before her fifth year, he had given her a bronze amulet of protection.

Parvati frowned over the new amulet, strung on a leather thong, trying to puzzle out its meaning. Neither she nor Lavender had taken Ancient Runes at Hogwarts, and her knowledge was limited.

"Silver and opals are for ...?"

"Healing," said Lavender.

"It's pretty. Why aren't you wearing it?"

Lavender shrugged, looking away. "Because I don't think they actually work."

The gold amulet had not brought her love, any more than the bronze one had protected her from harm. She had put them away in the drawer of her nightstand, where she would not have to look at them and think about how her father had failed her yet again.

"It can't hurt," said Parvati gently. "And I'm sure your father would be glad if you wore it."

"Yes, and it would be such a shame if I disappointed him," Lavender said bitterly. "I've never done _that_ before."

Parvati scowled. "There's nothing about you that he should find disappointing. He's the one who's disappointed you."

Lavender shook her head. "Anyway, it's silver. I might not be able to touch it, if ..."

"Have you tried?"

"No. I didn't want to know."

"Let's find out. Knowing has got to be better than not knowing."

"If I am, you won't want to know me anymore," Lavender said in a small voice.

"Don't be silly. I'm not going anywhere."

Reluctantly, Lavender let Parvati lift her hand. Dangling the silver amulet above it, she let it lightly brush the back of Lavender's hand.

"Anything?"

Lavender bit her lip. "I'm not sure. I don't think so."

Parvati lowered the amulet, until it rested on Lavender's skin. Nothing happened. Lavender let out the breath she had been holding.

"Well, now we know," said Parvati, sounding relieved.

"What if the thing about silver isn't true? I could still be -"

"You're not," Parvati said firmly. "I know you're not."

"Hazelnut doesn't," Lavender informed her gloomily. "And I have to report to the Ministry of Magic on Monday evening for 'observation'."

"At least that will get you out of this room," said Parvati.

"It's not funny. Don't joke."

"I know it's not." Parvati squeezed her fingers. "I'll go with you. You don't have to do it alone."

"You don't have to do that."

"Yes, I do. You'd do the same for me. And then we'll know for sure, and we can start making a plan for the future."

Lavender nodded reluctantly.

"I know one thing that's in your future," teased Parvati. "A bath. Have you washed at all since they let you out?"

Lavender scowled. "A bit. I don't need your help with that."

"Clearly you do. You reek. C'mon. We'll get you scrubbed, and I'll wash and comb your hair for you."

Though it was the last thing she wanted, Lavender let Parvati pull her out of bed and lead her down the hallway to the bathroom. She kept her gaze on her bare, brown toes as Parvati filled the claw-footed tub, until the mirrors misted over and she did not have to look at herself. Thick blue and pink foam frothed up as Parvati happily added powders and liquids to the steaming water.

"C'mon," she said again, when the tub was full. "That nightgown belongs in the hamper, and you belong in the tub."

Lavender hesitated.

"You're not being shy with me, are you?" teased Parvati, giving Lavender a smile that made her blush from chest to scalp. "I've seen it all before."

That much was true. Parvati was the first person after her mother with whom Lavender had shared her secret, when her body had begun to change in their first year at Hogwarts. It was Parvati who had insisted she talk to Madam Pomfrey, to find out what could be done about the changes, and Parvati who had supported her every step of the way since, on her path of transition. She had no secrets from her friend. No secrets but one.

Parvati rose gracefully from the edge of the bathtub and came to her, gentle hands undoing the buttons at her throat, moving downward, tugging at the light fabric, drawing it over Lavender's head.

"Oh," she said softly, fingertips tracing the jagged scars that ran across the tops of Lavender's breasts.

Lavender closed her eye and shivered, crossing her arms over her chest. She did not want to see pity on her friend's face.

"Never mind," said Parvati. "They still look really nice. It looks like they've been growing again. They'll probably be bigger than mine by the time they've finished.

"Yeah." Lavender had just begun to be really happy with the way her chest looked, before ...

"Have you taken your potion yet this week?"

"No," Lavender admitted. "I dunno if I see the point anymore." If no one could bear to look at her face, did it truly matter what her body looked like?

"You'll see the point again," Parvati assured her. "I'll brew you up a dose before I go today. Now, get in the tub before the water gets cold."

Lavender did as she was bidden, sinking into the hot, frothy water with a sigh. The heat relaxed her, and took some of the sting from the scratches on her chest. Parvati drew up a stool and sat at Lavender's head, fingers carding through the thick mane of her hair.

"If we're going to wash this, we'll need to take off your bandage. It looks like time to change it anyway."

Lavender tensed, then nodded. "It's a mess," she warned.

Parvati gently unwound the bandages, using warm water to soak them free where they clung to Lavender's raw flesh. When they were gone, Parvati bent her head and planted a soft kiss on the untouched part of Lavender's forehead. The softness of her lips and the tenderness of the caress made Lavender's breath catch in her throat.

"This is nothing," Parvati whispered to her. "You are still everything you were before: brave and strong and beautiful and clever, and the best friend anyone ever had."

Lavender let out a shaky breath, chest aching with the desire to believe her.

"No," she said. "That's you."


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lavender goes in for observation at the Ministry of Magic, to find out whether she has become a werewolf. Parvati is there to offer support and comfort.

Lavender tugged the hood forward to hide her face. The evening was warm - too warm for the heavy woolen cloak, but it was the only garment she owned with a hood. Lavender was sweating under its thick folds, but that was only partially due to the heat. She had felt flushed and feverish all day, and her skin prickled all over.

"Do you want me to come with you?" her father asked uncertainly.

" _No_ ," Lavender snapped, not looking at him. She could smell the firewhisky on his breath from halfway across the room. "I'll be fine. Parvati's coming with me."

"All right. Then I guess I'll see you in the morning."

He stepped toward her, as if to embrace her, but Lavender turned away and moved toward the fireplace.

"C'mon," she told Parvati. "We have to go. Now."

"We have plenty of time," Parvati said soothingly. "It's still more than an hour until sunset."

Lavender grabbed the carved wooden box from the mantle, almost dropping it. Her hands felt clumsy and disconnected, as if they belonged to someone else. Scooping out a handful of greenish powder, she handed the box to Parvati.

"I'll go first," said Parvati. "I'll meet you on the other side."

Green flames sprang up as she cast her own handful of powder into the hearth. Parvati stepped into them.

"The Leaky Cauldron."

The flames roared up, and Parvati vanished. Lavender closed her eye, took a deep breath, and followed her, repeating the name of their destination.

There was a momentary sense of disorientation, and then Lavender stumbled forward into a dim space, crowded with people, noise, and smells. Parvati caught her when she tripped on the hearth rug.

"Are you OK?" she asked in a low voice.

"Yeah."

Lavender kept her head bowed. This was the first time she had left her house since coming home from St Mungo's, and she had forgotten that, with the war so newly over, the wizarding pub would be full of revelers toasting victory, even on a Monday evening. She did not want them looking at her bandaged face. She did not want to see their looks of curiosity and pity.

"C'mon."

Parvati took her hand, leading her through the noisy throng and out of the pub. Lavender let her friend guide her along the London streets. It was easier than thinking. Her brain was buzzing with nerves.

Every new sensation in her body compounded Lavender's fears. She had barely been able to sleep the night before, feeling suffocated in her room. When she had gone to the window and raised the sash, the moonlight had struck her skin, and every hair on her arms had stood up. It pulled at her even now. Though the moon had not yet risen, Lavender could feel exactly where it was, just below the horizon. That could mean only one thing. She clutched the silver amulet tightly, so that the edges of the carved runes pressed themselves into her damp palm, clinging to the comfort that the silver did not burn her skin.

She glanced sideways at her friend. Parvati's face was intent, her own anxiety showing in her uncharacteristic silence. The evening light made her skin glow and her hair shine. Her footsteps were light and quick beneath the hem of her pale amethyst-coloured robes. Some of Lavender's fear fell away as she looked at Parvati. Her eye was drawn to the sway of her friend's hips, the curve of her breasts.

Lavender looked away, blushing. How could she think of such things at a time like this? But the heat that flushed her skin and made sweat drip down her sides was only partly due to her heavy cloak and their hurried pace. Thoughts flashed unbidden through her mind. Soft lips. The feel of warm skin under thin silk. A hand guiding hers. A gasp in the darkness. Heat. Closeness. Movement. Safety. Release.

 _You have to stop thinking about her that way,_ Lavender scolded herself. _She's your friend. She doesn't want that from you, and you shouldn't want it from her._

When they squeezed into the red phone box that served as the visitors' entrance to the Ministry of Magic, Lavender watched the people hurrying past. None of them seemed to notice the two girls huddled together in the small space. Lavender guessed that the box was shielded to keep non-magic folk from noticing it.

 _I could do it now,_ thought Lavender. _No one would see._

It would be so easy to lean across the few inches that separated her from the girl talking into the phone receiver and kiss her. Parvati probably would not even mind. But Lavender stayed where she was, letting her friend explain their purpose to the welcome witch.

When Parvati handed her a silver badge, Lavender took it reluctantly, and fixed it to her cloak. _Lavender Brown, Lycanthropic Observation_ , it read, the lettering bold and plain to anyone who cared to glance in her direction. Parvati pinned her own badge to her robes as the phone box took them down to the Atrium of the Ministry. _Parvati Patil, Moral Support_ , it declared.

"You OK?" Parvati asked again, searching her face under the shadow of her hood.

Lavender nodded.

The Atrium was mercifully empty. It was just past eight in the evening, and most of the witches and wizards who worked or had business at the Ministry had gone home for the day. A few gave the girls curious glances, frowning and hurrying away when they caught sight of Lavender's badge. Lavender kept her head down and her hood up, following Parvati to the security desk at the far end of the long room.

The wizard stationed behind the desk scowled at them, registering their wands and asking them a series of terse questions, which Lavender answered as briefly as possible, wishing he would stop looking at her. Once through the gate, Lavender and Parvati took the lift down to level four, to the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures.

Lavender shivered when she saw the name. _I'm not a creature. Even if something happens tonight, I'm not._ She gripped Parvati's hand and the silver amulet harder than ever.

A grouchy-looking clerk checked her in at the department's reception desk, when Lavender whispered her name to him.

"Through there," he told her, handing her a piece of parchment and pointing to a door.

When Parvati moved to go with her, the clerk said, "Not you. Staff and subjects only."

"Should I wait here?" asked Parvati.

The clerk shrugged, gesturing to a group of hard wooden chairs that stood against the wall. "You can if you want. It'll be a long wait, though. You'd do better to come back in the morning."

"You don't have to," whispered Lavender, feeling lost. "Go home and sleep."

Parvati shook her head. "I don't think I could. I'll stay."

Lavender felt absurdly grateful, even knowing that she would not be able to see her friend before the morning either way. "I guess I better go."

Parvati wrapped her arms around Lavender, hugging her tightly. "I'll be right here. And as soon as they let you out, I'll take you home."

"What if I really am a-a werewolf?" Lavender asked sorrowfully, wincing at the word. "Everyone will hate me!"

"Stop that." Parvati pulled back and wiped the tears from Lavender's cheek with her thumb. "I won't hate you. No matter what happens, you won't be alone. I promise."

"I will be tonight," sniffed Lavender.

Parvati frowned thoughtfully, then turned to the clerk. "May I borrow a quill?"

"Better make it quick," he told her as he passed one to her across the desk.

Parvati dipped the quill in ink and took Lavender's arm, pushing her sleeve back. The nib tickled as it moved across the skin of Lavender's forearm. _I love you_ , Parvati wrote in large, graceful letters.

"All right?" she asked, handing the quill back to the clerk.

Lavender bit her lip and nodded.

Parvati squeezed her fingers and leaned close to kiss her gently on the mouth.

"I'll see you in the morning," she whispered.

It was all Lavender could do to make herself let Parvati's hand go and walk through the door.

A grim-faced witch in green healer's robes met her in a bare and harshly-lit examination room.

"Undress," said the healer tartly, glancing at the parchment Lavender had brought with her. "Hang your clothes on the peg by the door. And be quick about it."

Reluctantly, Lavender stripped down to her underwear, then turned back toward the healer, arms crossed protectively over her chest.

"Knickers, too," the witch informed her.

When Lavender hesitated, she said impatiently, "They'll be ruined by the transformation. You'll want them to wear home tomorrow."

Hating everything, Lavender obeyed. When she was done, the healer looked her over, frowned, glanced at the parchment again, then handed her an undyed robe of flimsy cotton. Lavender quickly wrapped it around herself.

The healer removed her bandages and examined the raw scars on Lavender's face and chest.

"You'll get fresh ones in the morning." She glanced at Lavender's clenched fist. "What have you got there?"

Unwillingly, Lavender showed her the silver amulet.

The healer sniffed. "I suppose you can take that in with you, if you want, but if it's damaged, it's not our problem," she warned.

She escorted Lavender down a hallway lined with doors with multiple locking mechanisms and small, barred windows. Stopping at one with the number 3 on it, the healer dragged open the thick, heavy door and waved Lavender through it. The space on the other side was dark and cold.

Lavender hesitated. "If I don't change, will you let me out tonight?"

"The law requires overnight observation for all suspected cases of lycanthropic contamination," the healer informed her coldly. "You'll be let out at dawn, and not a minute before. In you go."

Shivering, Lavender stepped through the door. The stone floor felt icy under her bare feet. She had only a moment to take in the small room with stone walls, cracked and pitted and scratched by past occupants Lavender did not want to think about, and then the door clanged shut, and she was alone in the dark. As the bolts thudded into place on the outside of the door, Lavender slowly crumpled to the floor, curling in on herself, feeling miserable and humiliated.

She tried to look at her arm, to see the words Parvati had written there, but the barred window on the door did not let in enough light. Instead, Lavender traced the letters with a finger, trying to recall by feel where the quill had touched her skin.

"I love you," she whispered, lips numb, clutching the silver amulet in her fist.

She wanted desperately to believe that Parvati would never abandon her, but everything she had grown up knowing and hearing about werewolves filled Lavender with such visceral horror and revulsion that she could not imagine anyone ever wanting to go near one voluntarily, transformed or not. The werewolf was the thing that had done this to her, and it had not been transformed at the time. It was a monster; an alien _thing_ that might be rising inside her even now. It was not her. It could never be her.

 _Professor Lupin was a werewolf,_ she reminded herself.

Lupin had seemed like a kindly man, but Lavender had never truly known him. He had kept his condition a secret, hidden behind a pleasant mask for the one year he had been Lavender's teacher.

Tears rolled down Lavender's cheeks, soaking the thin cotton of her robe. She wanted Parvati. She wanted her mother. But most of all, she wanted not to be here - for this to not be happening to her.

"Please," she whispered tearfully, unsure who she asked. "Please don't let it happen."

Her body had already betrayed her once, at her birth, and she would bear the scars of Greyback's assault forever. Surely that was enough for one lifetime.

How many minutes were left until sunset? Lavender had lost all track of the time. Had it been one minute since she stepped through the heavy door? Five? Twenty? There was no way to know for sure in the darkness. Each second seemed to stretch into an eternity. Surely it could not be much longer. In just another moment, her body would change. Or not.

Lavender waited.

* * *

When the door creaked open, Lavender was still curled in a ball on the floor of the observation cell. She did not think she had ever felt colder or more alone. She did not know if she had slept at all. All she knew was that her body had not transformed. She had been spared that much, at least. Groggy and aching, she uncurled herself and staggered through the door.

A different healer awaited her in the examination room. He looked her over briefly with no word of greeting, re-bandaged her face, then made some marks on her parchment record, ticking the box next to the phrase _further lunar isolation not required_.

"You're free to go," he said at last, and left her to dress.

Lavender's hands trembled with relief as she fastened her robes and wrapped her cloak around herself, glad of its warmth.

Her friend was curled up in one of the uncomfortable wooden chairs in the waiting room. Her eyes opened when she heard the door, and a sweet, sleepy smile bloomed on her lips. Lavender could not help smiling in response.

"Good morning," murmured Parvati, rising only a little stiffly, and brushing her hands over her rumpled robes. "What's the news?"

"I'm all right," Lavender told her. "I'm not - I didn't change."

Parvati's smile widened and she pulled Lavender into a hug. "That's wonderful! I'm so glad."

"You don't have to be friends with a monster now," Lavender joked weakly.

"You could never be a monster. C'mon. They said we can take the Floo Network home directly from the Atrium."

Hand in hand, feeling lighter but very tired, Lavender followed Parvati back up through the Ministry corridors to the long Atrium, lined with a dozen or more fireplaces. They each took a handful of Floo powder from the large vase beside one of the fireplaces, tossed it onto the grate, and gave Lavender's address before stepping into the flames.

When Lavender stepped onto the hearth rug in her own sitting room, her knees sagged with relief. Her ordeal was over. She was home.

Her father sat slumped on the sofa, snoring softly. A tray of half-finished amulets and an empty bottle sat on the table at his knees. Lavender was too tired to be annoyed or disgusted with him.

She touched his shoulder. "Wake up, Dad."

He blinked and looked up at her blearily. "What time is it?"

"Time to go to bed."

He frowned brow furrowed. "You were at the - are you all right?"

"Yeah. I'm fine, Dad," she said lightly, not wanting to show him how raw her relief was. "No change."

A rare smile flashed across her father's face. "That's good. That's very good. You want breakfast? Tea?"

"I'm going to bed," she informed him. "You should, too."

"Sure. I just have to ..." he trailed off, bending to sort through his tray of amulets.

Lavender left him there, leading Parvati up the stairs. She took a fresh nightgown to the bathroom to change, splash some water on the un-bandaged part of her face, and brush her teeth. When she returned to her bedroom, she was surprised to find Parvati wearing one of her nightgowns. The curtains were drawn against the early morning light.

"I thought you'd want to go home."

"Nah," said Parvati, sitting down on the bed. "I thought you might like some company. Unless you'd rather be alone?"

Lavender could think of nothing she wanted less than to be without Parvati just now.

"You can stay."

They climbed into bed and curled up, arms around each other, Lavender's head resting on Parvati's shoulder. Lavender closed her eye.

It felt almost like being back at Hogwarts. They had spent many nights just like this, in one or the other of their beds, whispering and giggling in the darkness. During their last year at school, with their roommate Hermione gone, the war looming over them, and the the Carrows terrorizing the school, Lavender and Parvati had hardly spent a single night apart. The comfort and safety of each other's arms was all they had to sustain them.

Gentle fingers touched Lavender's face.

"Professor Trelawney says that scars can be read, just like the lines on someone's palm."

Lavender grimaced. "Do I want to know what they say?"

"They tell the story of how brave you are. How strong. How beautiful."

"Not anymore," said Lavender wistfully.

"Yes, you are," Parvati insisted. "Maybe you can't see it right now, but I can."

The gentle fingers lifted Lavender's chin, and Parvati kissed her, long and tenderly.

The breath caught in Lavender's throat as she struggled to understand. Kissing was part of wartime comfort - two girls alone in the darkness, with no one to turn to but each other. They had never talked about it - the kissing or the touching that had begun in the last few weeks before the final battle. Lavender had thought that part of their friendship was over. The war was done. School was finished. And yet the need for comfort continued.

Parvati's mouth moved against Lavender's, and her fingers moved, too, tracing down Lavender's neck and over her shoulder, along the groove of her spine and the curve of her hip, coming to rest on her thigh with a teasing caress.

"D'you ... want anything?" Parvati murmured.

Lavender's bones ached. The tingling of her skin and buzzing in her brain had evaporated with the dawn, along with the heat of desire that had flooded through her every time she looked at Parvati the night before.

"I don't think I could if I wanted to right now," Lavender admitted shyly. "I'm knackered."

"Mmm, that's too bad." Parvati stretched lazily and nuzzled Lavender's neck, making her shiver.

"Why? D'you want me to ...?" Lavender asked, a little breathlessly.

"You don't have to. You've had a long night."

Lavender summoned up her courage. "Maybe ... maybe I want to."

Parvati's fingers curled around Lavender's and moved them to her own thigh, just at the hem of the nightgown that she wore.

"I wouldn't mind."

She kissed Lavender again. This time, her lips parted, and the tip of her tongue grazed Lavender's lower lip. Heart in her throat, Lavender accepted the kiss, fingers stroking the soft skin of Parvati's thigh. She loved the feel of it, like warm silk, but somehow softer. Lavender traced her fingers upwards in lazy spirals, wanting to enjoy the journey. Wanting not to seem too eager. Wishing she were not so tired.

Parvati shivered and moved her legs a little farther apart. She was not wearing any underwear. Downy hair brushed Lavender's questing fingers. And then a slippery heat that was one of the most thrilling things Lavender had ever known.

This kind of exploration was still new to them, but they had done it enough times now for Lavender to know that Parvati was not always so wet, especially when Lavender first touched her. She slid an experimental finger between Parvati's folds, venturing into that secret slickness. Parvati made a soft whimpering sound and moved her hips, urging Lavender on.

She could just make out Parvati's face in the dim light, eyes closed, mouth open, head tilted back. Lavender watched her, awed, as her fingers moved between Parvati's legs. She was a wonder to Lavender, and that she wanted this from her, even for a moment, was intoxicating.

Though her hand ached just as much as the rest of her, Lavender kept at her sublime task, watching, enthralled, as Parvati's fingers gripped the bedclothes, and the soft, needy sounds she made became more urgent.

 _I wish I could see you this way all the time,_ Lavender wanted to tell her. _I'd never stop touching you, if you'd let me._

When Parvati stiffened and convulsed with a stifled scream, Lavender felt a stirring between her own legs that made her wonder if perhaps she was not too tired after all.

But no, that way lay frustration and disappointment. Better to bask in the reflected glow of Parvati's release. The languid, catlike stretch. The soft, panting breaths. The smile, half embarrassed, half pleased. The warm, musky scent of her. The mussed plait of her hair and the satisfied glow of her skin that made Lavender's heart feel so full it might overflow.

"Better?"

"Much. Thank you," Parvati added shyly.

"Any time," Lavender dared to say.

Parvati sighed contentedly and curled up against Lavender's shoulder once more. "Mmm, don't tempt me."

Lavender did not trust herself to say anything more. She closed her eyes, relaxing into the familiar warmth and safety of Parvati's arms, glad at least that Parvati still wanted her touch, and that she could make her best friend feel good. Her fingers brushed the inside of her own forearm, recalling the words Parvati had written there. Perhaps the love Parvati had for her was not exactly the love Lavender craved, but still it was love, and Lavender was grateful for it.


End file.
